


A Night Spent with You

by nutmeag83



Series: In the Family Way [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence - The Reichenbach Fall, Friends to Co-Parents to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Introspection, M/M, Parentlock, Post-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 19:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9563363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nutmeag83/pseuds/nutmeag83
Summary: We got John’s story of how two men became part of a larger family, but what was Sherlock thinking at the time?





	

**Author's Note:**

> I just had to give Sherlock a chance to say his piece. Much more succinctly than John did, I might add. ;-) This takes place after Chapter 8 of _What do Nineteen-month-olds Eat?!?_
> 
> Enjoy.

Sherlock woke to an early morning quiet. When he’d fallen asleep, the storm had still raged, the thunder causing quiet whimpers to emanate from the twins, even in their sleep. He would have to look into why storms could scare children, he didn’t remember being alarmed by them when he was young.

His last memory was of Mina nestled in his arms, but now she lay next to him, cuddled with Ian. The bedclothes covered them now. John must have tucked them in last night. John, who slept on the other side of the bed, not looking as peaceful as he usually did of late. John used to have nightmares, when they first met. They had tapered down and, in the past six months, had become almost non-existent. But Sherlock still listened, still watched, still waited to see if he’d need to play a soothing song on the violin to calm his friend.

Friend. Such a strange word. John was his friend, of course. His best friend. But he was also the man Sherlock would risk life and limb to keep happy and healthy. Was that something friends did? While he would easily beat up a secret service agent to protect Mrs. Hudson, if it was a choice between her and John, he knew which one he couldn’t live without. And he knew Mrs. Hudson wouldn’t begrudge him the thought. She saw far too much, especially involving Sherlock.

Sherlock still couldn’t believe John had agreed to adopt Mina and Ian with him. He couldn’t believe his friend had helped out in the first place. Well, John was caring and helpful, but co-parenting went a bit beyond changing a few nappies and baby-sitting. He had let Sherlock yet again disrupt his life just because Sherlock had been selfish. John stayed with Sherlock for excitement and danger, not for crying toddlers and peaceful nights spend at home. At least, that’s what Sherlock had always thought. But when he’d watched John in the hours before they had decided to adopt the children, Sherlock had known that John’s priorities had changed.

Of course, the man was ridiculously obsessed with being average, so maybe this was just his solution to keeping his danger addiction happy by sticking with Sherlock, while also getting to raise a family like a “normal” person. Sherlock assumed there weren’t many women out there who would have let John have both. So he had chosen to stay with his crazy flatmate and raise children with him. Because he wasn’t average, no matter how hard he tried.

John was extraordinary. Sherlock had known that from the minute the man had walked into the lab the day they met. His dual jobs of soldier and doctor were telling enough, but add in a hand tremor that disappeared under pressure and an attraction to the unusual (and Sherlock _had_ noticed the attraction right away, but he hadn’t known what it meant), and John became a fascinating puzzle for Sherlock to unravel. And, four years later, Sherlock was still unraveling, with no end in sight. They could live to be a hundred and Sherlock still be working on it. John’s kindness, his temper, his willingness to help some people and not others, the way he dove head first into danger (with a grin, no less), the way he held their children tenderly during a storm, the way he trusted Sherlock as he did no other person. Yes, John would always fascinate Sherlock.

Which worried Sherlock. How long would Sherlock fascinate John? Yes, they were co-parents now, but people grew apart, people changed. Would John get tired of either chasing after Sherlock or tending to tiny skinned knees?

Then there was the problem of feelings. Of love. Of _romantic_ love. On Sherlock’s end, at least. John’s initial attraction had dwindled when Sherlock began providing him regularly with dangerous situations and interesting cases. He loved Sherlock, but in the way that friends did. Sherlock had pushed his own romantic feelings to the side as well, until he had been forced to spend a year away from the man he loved, during the time when Sherlock heard John’s voice in his head, alternately loving and hateful.

Their hiatus had been horrid, but knowing he would return had kept Sherlock going. He had come back expecting John to have either forgotten about Sherlock or still at Baker Street, his life on pause while Sherlock was away. But instead, Sherlock had returned to a still obviously grieving John. Also an angry John, as evidenced by Sherlock’s sore face and John’s hangover the next morning.

Sherlock had never known he’d meant so much to John, that he held the power to hurt the man so much. He had vowed then to do all he could to make it up to his friend. It had been slow going in the beginning. Many apologies, more thoughtfulness on Sherlock’s part, and lots of late-night dinners. But John had finally come home, and Sherlock had realized he couldn’t live without this amazing man in his life ever again.

And now, Sherlock _hoped_ , he never would. He wondered at the impossibility of the man in his bed. Granted, there were two children between them and it was completely platonic, but John was there. His looks were fond, he laughed at Sherlock’s jokes, and he trusted Sherlock again. This was more than Sherlock had ever hoped for, given the first night of his return.

So even though Sherlock yearned for something romantic between them, he was happy they’d made it this far. Sherlock was just glad he had a chance to fiercely love not one, but three, people, all of whom slept next to him in the calm of early morning.

Sherlock watched John’s brow furrow, then smooth again. His face showed that he hadn’t slept well the night before. Worry over the children? Nightmares? John had looked troubled the night before, but not over the children. Something else then.

He had been tired after a long day at the clinic, but had brought no worries home from work. The evening had been pleasant, until the storm had rolled in. But the way John had looked at Sherlock while they calmed the children had been…different. Troubled. Worried. Amazed. He had complimented Sherlock. Not unusual. But there was something Sherlock was missing. Something that had been niggling at the back of his mind since before the children had arrived in their lives. Love? Well, of course love. They were best friends and co-parents.

Oh.

A memory surfaced, fuzzy and soft. Sherlock had been mostly asleep, a three-day case and John’s quiet murmurs making the transition to unconsciousness easy. Sherlock had heard John turn off lights and close doors. He had a vague memory of bedclothes being rearranged before warmth encompassed him. And a hand, gentle on the side of his face. Lips, feather light and warm against his temple. John’s? Of course John’s. Who else could it have been? But why? Fondness? John wasn’t exactly prone to physical displays of affection, preferring fond smiles or words of praise.

Which meant something had changed. Ian and Mina, of course, had thrown a spanner into their routine, but that was months ago. Something more recent then. That very evening? The troubled look? Why? Sherlock scanned his memories to see if he’d said or done anything out of the ordinary, but nothing came to mind. Something internal for John, then. A conclusion? A decision?

Sherlock kept returning to John’s look and the kiss. They were connected to John’s internal struggle, that was certain. But what had it been about? What conclusion had John drawn? Dare Sherlock hope that John’s feelings for him ran deeper than friendship? Sherlock had steered clear of romantic entanglement for this very reason. He dealt in facts, in certainties. Everything about romance was uncertain. _The same could be said for friendship, and yet that hasn’t stopped you_ , said a voice in his head. True. He had taken responsibility for his emotions, had allowed them to be aired and stretched and used, after years of bottling them up. Why stop there? _Because John is special, and I can’t lose him_ , he told himself. _What makes you think you will?_ asked another part of his brain.

Sherlock stared at John, drank in the moment of watching him unfiltered. His hair was a mess, his mouth was slack, and he was snoring slightly. And looking at him made Sherlock’s heart clench in the way he’d become familiar with in the last four years. The bittersweetness of unrequited feelings; the hurt and love and the overwhelming feeling of, well, of _feelings_. Sherlock had an inkling that they were at a tipping point. But which way would it go? Would he push forward? Would John? Would one of them run, unable to deal?

The rising sun splashed golden light on John’s head, making his hair glint. Ian stirred next to him, the sun hitting him in the eyes. Mina, always sensitive to her brother, awoke as well, giving Sherlock a calm look. It was silly, but to Sherlock it said, _Well, you have a decision to make. You’re the grown-up here, so just make it already._ One of these days, Mina would begin speaking and would disavow every word Sherlock had put into her mouth up until that point. Until then, he let her imagined snark judge him.

And, because he was the grown-up here, at least of the three who were currently conscious, he made a decision. He decided to continue to love John with his whole heart, his whole being. But he also decided to act on that love. They were men of action. This dithering didn’t become them. John had obviously come to a conclusion as well. Since John was a bit skittish when it came to anything in the vicinity of romance that involved the two of them, Sherlock also decided to give John a chance to make the first move, so as not to scare him away. But Sherlock was an impatient man, so he wouldn’t wait too long. Three weeks was the arbitrary metric he decided on. If John hadn’t said anything by then, Sherlock would make his move.

And he knew just how to broach the subject.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this little interlude. I'm not great at writing Sherlock's perspective, so this isn't what I wanted when the idea first came to me, but I hope it gives you at least an inkling of Sherlock's feelings during the main story.


End file.
